Blooming
by apotterheadwhovianinwesteros
Summary: Sakura, a writer to be, decides to make a list of the things she needs to experience before becoming an excellent writer. Among those things the phrase 'experience love' seems to be the one that gives her trouble. Will she be able to find love in her new relationship with the next door neighbor while checking off the items on the list or will she fail miserably at both?


In a dark room, a darkness created by the blue curtains, the almost black wallpaper and the projection of a girl's soul, you could see one lonely light trailing through the blackness of her surrounds. The laptop. Her computer open as it always is and her writing away one of her many pieces, her many ideas that she sometimes used, that she sometimes wrote just to try out. The air was filled with the words that she never put on paper. The thoughts that never got written, that she wanted to take out and give a meaning, to create a coherent string that eventually would make the girl sigh in desperation and give up writing.

What was she writing this time? There are moments when she doesn't even know. There are moments when all she does is let her feeling guide her, let her hands do all the work for her and make her mind go into a blissful state of numbness as she let her heart take over. And she wrote, and she felt, and for a few moments everything was absolutely perfect. But now, this is one of the nights in which she has a certain goal in mind, she knows exactly what she wants to do and where she wants to get. You see, she hasn't written in a while so her mind felt like it went stale. Her heart kept feeling more and more with each idea that came running towards her until it couldn't take it anymore so it burst in on itself in a spectrum of feelings that cannot be measured. So she wrote. She wrote and then deleted everything because she felt like the words she put on paper weren't strong enough. Sometimes she felt like the words she has in her artillery do not cover everything she has to say, like the feeling in her stomach when she's excited about an idea is not completely covered and put on paper. She wants to share everything she feels with anyone who might read this one day, she wants them to feel it with her, to make them hold their stomachs as they get so full of that feeling they can't hold it in anymore so they smile. Or they gasp. Or they whimper. She wants to be perfect! But she's nowhere near that. Which is why she decided to do this. You see, she saw a movie recently. Something that opened her eyes. She learned from that that a writer must be courageous in life, must experience everything they can so they can write the feeling properly. The truth is, she wasn't like that. In her whole eighteen years of life she never really had a knack for socializing so she spent her time by herself. Recently taking a liking to movies and shows as an addition to her reading passion. And as any addict that respected himself she asked for more so she read fanficion, she looked at fanart, she spent her time on forums and on the net defending this and that because she was passionate about it, she wanted to do it. When that wasn't enough she started doing her own, she started writing, which panned out into something more complex and beautiful than she could ever imagine.

But that is not what is important right now. What is important is the decision she had made. You see, tonight, Lily was making a list. A list of everything she had to experience before becoming a good writer. Of course there was the observing and the writing down notes part of writing that she already had down but when it came to feelings she felt as inexperienced as a new born baby. She wanted to give her readers a real experience, something to learn from, an accurate description of how it felt to live. She's been working on the list for five hours now, half of which she spent pacing around the room drinking tea half thinking about the list, half staring into space thinking about nothing and realizing afterwards that she had lost good minutes without there being any progress. But now she finally sat down in front of her laptop, Mickey she called it, and wrote out the list which goes as follows:

**What to experience before starting to seriously write**

**A list by Lily Stoon who wants to **

**Be a writer but fails miserably at it so far.**

Experience getting lost on the streets

Experience love

Experience despair

Understand how it is to live without a mom

Understand how it is to live without a dad

Understand what loving a sibling means

Experience the bond between a dog and their owner

Do the same with cats

Experience not sleeping for more than two days

Experience actual wrenching stress

Experience how it is to have no time

Experience how it is to have a friend with which you have traditions and inside jokes

Experience how it is to have a boyfriend

Experience sex

Find out the difference between sex and love making feeling-wise

Experience heart brake

Go to a party and see how these things usually work

Experience smoking

Experience drinking until you can't walk straight

Experience weed

Experience the fear of having to keep a secret.

And so far that was it. She thought she made a pretty good list, had pretty much everything a writer would need to know, of course she knew that wasn't true but to be fair there wasn't much she could do about things she couldn't exactly get to yet like how a mother loves her child. She could never understand that feeling even though she saw it with her mom every day. She suspected you had to have your own child to find out how that works and so she had to wait for that one. Other than that everything else that wasn't on the list could maybe be avoided up to one point.

As she saved the document she stretched her hands and yawned. It was four in the morning on a Thursday in the middle of summer. Her room was impossibly hot, so hot she taught she saw the posters on her wall peel earlier but she had to suffer through it because if she opened the window a swarm of flies and other little bugs would come flying in to make her their queen and follow her everywhere. With one last sigh she went to bed with a feeling of disappointment in her stomach because she knew that she would never accomplish that list, she would never be brave enough to do that, not to mention that some of that are actually kind of impossible like convincing her mother to get her a dog or a cat, or getting a boyfriend…or ever having sex. Which reminded her that she could describe disappointment perfectly as she always felt it. Needless to say she went to bed knowing that those five hours she spent on this were clearly wasted and even though she didn't exactly mind she would have liked to spend those hours working on her writing skill. After all she could write more than fiction. She could be one of those writers that gave life lessons through monologues and personal stories and go to seminars and talk about how her readers can do it. Everyone can do it. The thought was cringe worthy. All she wanted to do was create a world in which she could go back to as much as she wanted. In which her and her readers could escape and feel at home. A world she wanted to live in. She didn't have the skill for that, she thought as she took all the clothes that were on the bed and threw them on the floor so as to make some room for her to sleep in. After she pulled the covers over herself and welcomed the wave of heat that was coming and coming she thought to herself that maybe she would try. Just this once. She would put her mind to it and maybe this time it would be different. Maybe she'll go through with it unlike anything else she starts. Though she couldn't see how some of those things were possible. That night she fell asleep thinking of all the experiences and opportunities waiting for her out there. All the closed doors she would never get to open if she didn't do this. That night, as the thoughts in her head became foggier and foggier and she finally reached that place that you don't remember about when you wake up there was one thought she was sure she won't forget. The decision she had made together with the promise that this time it would be different. This time around she believed in herself which was incredibly new to her.

The next morning she woke up with all the determination from last night gone. That's what usually happened. Making important life decisions in the middle of the night never holds up.

She threw the covers away and did the first thing she always did, walked over to her computer-old friend Mickey- and reread the list. Maybe she could do it. It was too much of a hassle truth be told, but it was for her and for her goals so her mind was made up.

The first thing she did after that was go back to bed. She couldn't really do anything at 12 o'clock on a summer's day. Everyone was sleeping.

**Chapter 1**

**Progress made concerning the list.**

Here's the thing my dear reader. I decided some time ago to make a list in which I write everything I need to do in order to become a better writer. And this. This is a journal that catalogues my progress. It's honestly amazing I've kept the determination this much as I came up with the idea somewhere in July and now we're in September. Turns out miracles really do happen. May they happen more often, aye reader?

Now here's where we're at. School started two days ago and the first thing on my list is experience getting lost and discovering new places because of it. Truth be told I could've done that months ago but I didn't want to ruin the sanctity of it, I didn't want to taint it with not respecting the timeline I set up. You see, I decided that this should start as soon as school did. More time for me to set up everything for this, more time to get used to the idea that I'm doing this whether I like it or not and school brings about more opportunities. You know, more chances to make a fool of myself.

I went to school this morning fully prepared to get lost with extra food, extra money and a nice new playlist in case I get completely lost and have to live out on the streets for a few nights. I'll live out on the streets with nice rockin' music.

It's all fun and games until one lost girl becomes an actual lost girl is what I usually say. As soon as school was over I went in the exact opposite direction I usually take. Getting lost was a problem at first as I pretty much knew the streets but I took all the turns I never took until I ended up in a plaza. An old paved street led to a huge plaza with a nice fountain in the middle. All very impressive, but I felt like this experience wasn't all it was supposed to be. Not to mention that my mom started calling me minute after minute to find out where I am.

Eventually, I sat down near the fountain and ate my sandwich miserably. Even my food tasted like failure. The worse thing about this was that I didn't get to feel that excitement you feel when you do something new. Was this all? Are they all going to be like this? Are all these experiences blown up to make the story sound more intense? These are a few of the questions I asked myself as I gulped my disappointing sandwich down. Little did I know what was going to happen. Something so wonderful it would change my whole outlook on this day.

Street artists took over. All around me street artists started performing their own little moment. It was amazing, it was breath taking and I really felt like this was an opportunity I wouldn't have gotten otherwise. People around me formed little groups all around the performers and you could hear talking, excited murmurs, ooh-s and ah-s everywhere. Even music. You could hear music. All this excitement managed to cover the sound the fountain was making.

And I felt so many things at once. I felt happy and the disappointment slowly faded away. I felt excited because of all the artistic moments, because of everything that was going on around me and, finally, I felt like I was a part of something. I felt like we were all in this together, we were all here to watch and enjoy as a team. But there was one more thing. A strange thing I have to say. I felt pride. But not for me, not for my achievements. I felt a strange sensation of pride for the artists. You know those moments when you watch something or you read something and the person in front of you or the character in your book does something so cringe worthy you get embarrassed? You get second-hand embarrassment? I think it's the same thing I felt except I wasn't embarrassed for them, I was proud of them. I thought about their lives and about their families. I figured being an artist is not the easiest thing in this day and age. Hell, it never was! You need a lot of courage to come in public like that and open up your soul for everyone to see. So I thought they were proud of themselves. Either way they should be. And I felt like that pride was so huge and so well placed that it shone through them, it gave off confidence and it made everyone else feel just as proud. Second-hand pride. It doesn't make you cover your face, instead it makes you tear up.

This is how I found out there is one more thing I should add to my list, one more thing I over-looked.

Experience how it feels to stand before a crowd with your soul wide open

This my friends is a special moment. You have witnessed the moment I have sold my soul to this idea. I am now in completely and as every day passes by I find it is the right thing to do.

The next day I was exhausted from all that walking not to mention that my feet were now killing me. It was probably incredibly obvious, but I'm not a fan of sports. The next day was disastrous to be honest. My homework wasn't done at all, my mom was furious with me and the test I was supposed to study for was the hardest thing I ever took mainly because I didn't study. I spent six full hours in that plaza yesterday. Six hours! Doing what, you might wonder, well I liked what I was feeling so much I wanted it to last and so I kept wondering around. Then I got lost while getting home and when I found my way again I realized I was going the wrong way all along. This getting lost business isn't all it's made out to be. This is why I reached this conclusion: It's not the being lost that gives the experience worth, but the place you get lost in. Thankfully, that is the first thing on my list being crossed out. Being brave has been a breeze so far.

My next item is love. I am incredibly glad that I started out with the easy ones. In any case I do realize that this will take a while and to tell you the truth I didn't at first. I had this silly image in my had that had me finished with all the items on the list in a month but that's not gonna happen.

So love…ah, yes! The feeling that makes all the heartless popular boys go weak in the knee for the nerdy girl that is prettier than she seems. Or at least that's what I keep seeing on TV. The truth is I don't know how it feels. Even with my mom, I feel like it isn't exactly love as much as it is need. Don't get me wrong I love my mom, but that's not the kind of love I want to experience. I want to live through the stomach butterflies and the sweating because of nerves and the electric touches you feel on your first date. I've read enough about it to be able to describe it but it feels wrong. They feel like words on paper and that's it. I want the way I describe love to make you understand how it feels, to make you experience it through me. You see, I'm not trying to write with words here, I'm trying to write with feelings and so far my alphabet isn't complete. So what's to do? Give up? That's usually first on my list but not this time. This time I want to fight. And this time I will hopefully win.

But who should I give the honor of my first love? Should it be my neighbor? Should it be someone from school? The obvious answer is my neighbor. If this thing goes wrong I don't want the whole school to know. I realize you're not familiar enough with who I'm talking about in order to get on board so here it is.

His name is Eric Lotter. He's been living across the street for 7 years and he's quite a cutie. His hair is jet black and his eyes have such a pretty green color. A pretty green color that I got off his Facebook as I've never been close enough to see his eyes for myself. The truth is we've never talked other than a polite "Howdy neighbor!" from across the street that was sometimes directed to my parents. I have to admit, though, that Eric is incredibly attractive to me. Maybe it's the fact that he's twenty and he seems older to me even though there are only two years between us. Or the fact that sometimes he posts silly pictures of himself on his wall that make me laugh. He was always in the back of my head as a possible crush. I have to admit I never really cared enough to make this into a full blown crush. There was this time though when I tried to lose weight so I wanted to start running-spoiler alert! It didn't work out-and I saw him sitting on his porch with a book-it was Stephen King-and as I passed his house he looked at me going. I was sixteen then and he had just turned nineteen. That moment was burned into my head and I eventually made it out to be something special. It most likely isn't.

It's decided, I suppose. What other choices do I have? So with a foggy head, filled with dreams of relationships and heart brakes I went downstairs to my mom to ask for a cat. Which will eventually lead to Eric and I talking, trust me. And as I talked about how important it was to me to get a cat and how it will change my life forever and about how I understand the responsibility it brings, my mother stared at me and whispered "No!" as she shook her head. I never expected this to be easy.

But for tonight I figured I should back off. I had plans tomorrow anyway. Plans to start talking to Eric. Now you'd think I'd be a normal teenager and just IM him on Facebook, but I find that to be a little too boring.

What I find incredibly strange is that when I make it clear in my head that all I'm going to do and everything that is going to happen is for research purposes only, I manage to go through with it without being nervous or flustered or having any sort or anxiety. Which is why, I think, what I want to do tomorrow seems perfectly ok in my head and is not making any sort of alarms go off. There's one more thing however that pushes me forward. I have absolutely nothing to lose.

With high hopes for tomorrow I go to bed expecting nice dreams and incredible outcomes.


End file.
